Green's.
"Don't you dare threaten me," Macey said. What? Lonnie instantly panicked, because she shouldn't be overhearing this conversation, but there was nowhere for her to go without bringing more attention to herself. Obviously, Lunther and Macey hadn't noticed that someone was in the supply room right next door. She tiptoed her soy heels over to the door and started closing it, because the last thing she wanted was for Macey to walk out of Lunther's office and see her standing right there.
Just as she was nudging the door closed, she heard Macey's voice more clearly, as if she were suddenly closer. She had to be at Lunther's doorway, on her way out. Lonnie froze. Impulsively, she decided to stay hidden behind the half-open door and wait till Macey left.
"I've made it very clear—" Lunther began.
"So have I, and at this point, you should be the one who feels threatened."
"Look, Macey—" he growled in an angry voice that Lonnie had never heard him use.
Macey cut him off, in a more impassioned voice than Lonnie had ever heard her use, "Don't fuck with me, Lunther. Or your diapered balls will end up in a sling!"
Diapered balls? It was times like this that Lonnie wished she were more sexually experienced so she would be familiar with all the terms.
Then Macey's voice changed back to cool and even. "Figuratively speaking, of course, since I wouldn't touch them with a ten-foot pole covered in latex."
"You bitch," Lunther snarled.
"Just you remember: you've been warned." And with that, Macey walked down the hall, in the opposite direction from the supply room, thank God.
Lonnie released a barely audible sigh of relief, and crept back to the shelf for paper towels. She could only reach high enough to grab one roll, but that was fine as far as she was concerned; she just wanted to slip back down the hall unnoticed. Just as she was stepping out and silently shutting the door, an abrupt noise shattered the silence. It sounded like an off-key horn blast. Another one sounded. Then another— oh, no. Her jaw dropped in horror. It couldn't be! But, it was. Lunther was passing gas—and with abandon.
She contorted her upper body to steal a peek into Lunther's office. From where she stood, she could see a beefy hand grabbing a can of Lysol off the desk. Spritz, spritz. Horn blast. Spritz. She shut her eyes and shook her head in disbelief.
Chapter 6
"Hey, are you taking lunch today?" Matt Fetchug stopped at Lonnie's desk wearing his characteristic cocky grin. He was actually very cute, with medium brown hair and a nice build... not that she was really looking. He had the kind of generic-handsome look that many women liked. Lonnie glanced up from her computer screen and smiled at him.
"I don't think so," she answered. "I have to finish doing this PowerPoint presentation for Twit. I've got four more slides to go, I think." Earlier that day, she'd made arrangements with Meijing, who'd agreed to cater the holiday party. It had been fabulously easy; she'd simply described the function, gave an estimated number of guests, and Meijing promised to take care of the rest. Lonnie had thanked her profusely and groveled unabashedly, even though it hadn't seemed necessary.
"What, you design his presentations?" Matt asked in a voice that would've been appalled if he cared more.
"Yeah, sort of. Well, how it works is, he gives me a huge stack of incoherent notes on a particular subject, and then I somehow turn it into a PowerPoint slide show by a ludicrous and unrealistic deadline. It's a nice little system we've got worked out." She topped off her statement with her favorite exploited-and-loving-it smirk.
Matt smirked back. "Ah, I see. So what's the deadline for this? You can't break for lunch?" Lonnie figured she technically could, but she'd feel too guilty to really enjoy herself. Plus, she secretly hoped that Dominick would send her an e-mail asking her to lunch. She hadn't heard from him since that night at
"Don't you dare threaten me," Macey said. What? Lonnie instantly panicked, because she shouldn't be overhearing this conversation, but there was nowhere for her to go without bringing more attention to herself. Obviously, Lunther and Macey hadn't noticed that someone was in the supply room right next door. She tiptoed her soy heels over to the door and started closing it, because the last thing she wanted was for Macey to walk out of Lunther's office and see her standing right there.
Just as she was nudging the door closed, she heard Macey's voice more clearly, as if she were suddenly closer. She had to be at Lunther's doorway, on her way out. Lonnie froze. Impulsively, she decided to stay hidden behind the half-open door and wait till Macey left.
"I've made it very clear—" Lunther began.
"So have I, and at this point, you should be the one who feels threatened."
"Look, Macey—" he growled in an angry voice that Lonnie had never heard him use.
Macey cut him off, in a more impassioned voice than Lonnie had ever heard her use, "Don't fuck with me, Lunther. Or your diapered balls will end up in a sling!"
Diapered balls? It was times like this that Lonnie wished she were more sexually experienced so she would be familiar with all the terms.
Then Macey's voice changed back to cool and even. "Figuratively speaking, of course, since I wouldn't touch them with a ten-foot pole covered in latex."
"You bitch," Lunther snarled.
"Just you remember: you've been warned." And with that, Macey walked down the hall, in the opposite direction from the supply room, thank God.
Lonnie released a barely audible sigh of relief, and crept back to the shelf for paper towels. She could only reach high enough to grab one roll, but that was fine as far as she was concerned; she just wanted to slip back down the hall unnoticed. Just as she was stepping out and silently shutting the door, an abrupt noise shattered the silence. It sounded like an off-key horn blast. Another one sounded. Then another— oh, no. Her jaw dropped in horror. It couldn't be! But, it was. Lunther was passing gas—and with abandon.
She contorted her upper body to steal a peek into Lunther's office. From where she stood, she could see a beefy hand grabbing a can of Lysol off the desk. Spritz, spritz. Horn blast. Spritz. She shut her eyes and shook her head in disbelief.
Chapter 6
"Hey, are you taking lunch today?" Matt Fetchug stopped at Lonnie's desk wearing his characteristic cocky grin. He was actually very cute, with medium brown hair and a nice build... not that she was really looking. He had the kind of generic-handsome look that many women liked. Lonnie glanced up from her computer screen and smiled at him.
"I don't think so," she answered. "I have to finish doing this PowerPoint presentation for Twit. I've got four more slides to go, I think." Earlier that day, she'd made arrangements with Meijing, who'd agreed to cater the holiday party. It had been fabulously easy; she'd simply described the function, gave an estimated number of guests, and Meijing promised to take care of the rest. Lonnie had thanked her profusely and groveled unabashedly, even though it hadn't seemed necessary.
"What, you design his presentations?" Matt asked in a voice that would've been appalled if he cared more.
"Yeah, sort of. Well, how it works is, he gives me a huge stack of incoherent notes on a particular subject, and then I somehow turn it into a PowerPoint slide show by a ludicrous and unrealistic deadline. It's a nice little system we've got worked out." She topped off her statement with her favorite exploited-and-loving-it smirk.
Matt smirked back. "Ah, I see. So what's the deadline for this? You can't break for lunch?" Lonnie figured she technically could, but she'd feel too guilty to really enjoy herself. Plus, she secretly hoped that Dominick would send her an e-mail asking her to lunch. She hadn't heard from him since that night at
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